to time my breathing with yours
by Cinderela-Story
Summary: In retrospect, he can pinpoint exactly when he knew; they were simply inevitable.


Title: to time my breathing with yours

Summary: In retrospect, he can pinpoint exactly when he knew; they were simply inevitable.

Character/Pairing: Finn Hudson; Rachel Berry; Finn/Rachel

Rating: G

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, although I wish Cory did.

Note: A look into Finn and Rachel's relationship toward the end of Season Two (with a tiny AU twist). I've been tweaking this for months, figured it was about time to put it out there. Comments are always appreciated, please no flames.

* * *

_You and me are floating on a tidal wave together  
_

* * *

In retrospect, he can pinpoint exactly when he knew.

_You're better than all of them, Finn_.

His swelling heart lodged firmly in his throat, a frequency between them unlike anything he's ever experienced before. He had never stood a chance.

They were simply inevitable.

* * *

This is not the way it was supposed to be.

Quinn tugs on his hand forcefully and he draws his eyes from Rachel and Jesse in the front row. "Stop it," she scolds, her voice tight. He's about to argue, the words on the tip of his tongue, when he hears Rachel's laughter and his head snaps back without thinking.

He sees Jesse rest a hand on the back of her chair, watches as he and Rachel share a private smile that doesn't reach her eyes. When she turns her head and sees Finn staring, he thinks she looks almost sad.

As he leaves the choir room, he watches Jesse lean over and whisper something in Rachel's ear. She smiles shyly before meeting Finn's hard gaze and for a moment, he thinks he sees something fleeting there that's not quite memory.

_Then again_, he thinks as he watches Rachel nod in answer to Jesse's silent question, _maybe not_.

* * *

Quinn is a good sport. She may not think bowling is suitable for a date or do him one better and suggest the batting cages, but she's willing to go along for the ride - to a point - and for that he is grateful.

At night, he lies awake searching for the place where their points coincide. Her patience with him only makes it worse. She's doubling her efforts picking up his slack, despite his lack of interest. Most days, he feels too exhausted to muster the energy.

But she is far from clueless. He feels a tight hand on his arm, long before Quinn places it there, as Rachel enters the auditorium. A vision in pink, she steals his breath as she floats along the dance floor. Jesse places a possessive hand at the small of her back and Finn feels the knife in his gut twist.

He should be happy for her, really. Rachel deserves to have someone willing to defend her, speak out for her; who reaches out and touches her back like it's nothing.

Like it's everything.

"It's almost time for the announcement," Quinn whispers from beside him, pulling him toward the stage. He risks one last look at Rachel as she and Jesse pose before the school's photographer.

Their frequency seems suddenly like an ancient, useless thing.

* * *

Quinn settles down on the bench beside him, her tiara sparkling in the moonlight. "You okay?" she whispers suddenly, and Finn can only shake his head.

It's an unseasonably warm night. His tie hangs loosely around his neck as he stares down at the cobblestone beneath his feet.

"Is it me?" Quinn says, voice cracking as if she's fighting out the words and he can hear the real question beneath the surface, in the words she can't bring herself to say.

"No," he says finally, almost on an exhale. He looks at her then and he knows she can see it there in his face, in all the little moments they've both fought to ignore the past few weeks.

All the things they both wish they didn't know come creeping out from the shadows.

"No Quinn, it isn't you," he says meaningfully and he knows she understands because she begins to softly cry.

He takes the crown from his head and places it on the seat beside him. "I'm sorry," he says, moving to stand, but he stops at the sound of her voice behind him.

"I can't believe I'm back here again," she says, eyes downcast. She stands slowly, a smile of disbelief playing at her lips. "Unbelievable," she whispers, before straightening slightly, making her graceful exit.

It isn't until he's all the way home that he realizes he'd left his crown behind.

* * *

"Oh."

Finn lifts his head from the airplane window at the sound.

"I think that's my -" Rachel says, gesturing to the window seat Finn occupies. "I think that's my seat," she says.

"Oh!" he says, leaping up. "Oh, yeah, let me -" he stutters, suddenly awkward in this confined space. He stands, leaning back as she slides past him, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender shampoo. He settles into his seat, careful not to touch any part of her.

"So, you must be excited. New York and all," he says, trailing off awkwardly. He worries she won't take the bait but when she turns to him, she looks eager, excited. He relaxes visibly, smiles wide.

They spend the whole flight talking animatedly, heads bent together conspiratorially, laughter echoing all around them. As the city comes in to sight, they both turn toward the window.

"Finn!" she almost squeaks, grasping his hand uninhibited. "Isn't it so beautiful? Doesn't it just take your breath away?" she says softly, dreamily.

"Yeah," he whispers, but he isn't looking at the city view, not at all.

When he entwines their fingers a moment later, she doesn't resist. He feels the shift in frequency; she is his again. Tethered. It's like it ever was.

It's like it's supposed to be.


End file.
